Alaric sat at his desk, one hand propping up his chin as he stared at Professor Thorne at the front of the room.
They'd gotten back from the palace an hour ago. The carriage ride had been silent, uncomfortable. Now he was supposed to sit here and care about trade routes.
"So when supply lines get cut during a siege, what happens?" Thorne was saying, pacing in front of the map. "Anyone? Come on, this is basic stuff."
A few hands went up. Thorne pointed at a student in the second row.
"The army has to retreat?"
"Sometimes. What else?"
"They could try to take the city faster. Before they run out of supplies."
"Right, desperate assault. Usually ends badly." Thorne's eyes swept the room and landed on Alaric. "Glimor. You awake over there?"
Alaric blinked, then straightened slightly. "Yeah."
"Great. So what would you do? You're commanding the siege, your supplies just got cut off. Assault, retreat, or something else?"
